How to train your dragon
by Planeshunter
Summary: This is the tale of a proud warrior, bested and captured, and what transpired from that captivity. Rated M for sexual content.
**Konnichiwa, konnichiwa, Planeshunter here!**

 **For anyone following my work, I'll have to warn you "How to train your dragon" is not anything like what I usually write. This work is about sex, and is somewhat twisted while we are at it. It's also my first… I'm not sure if I should call it erotic, but then again it could be, depending on the reader.**

 **This scenario takes place during volume 2, it assumes Raven never came to her daughter's rescue during her fight with Neopolitan in the train and happens immediately after.**

 **Well then, How to train your dragon,** **始まります** **!**

* * *

 **How to train your dragon**

For the nth time Yang charged forward with a roar, her fist missing it's target by a hair's breath. It was vexing, so very, very vexing… Even if she had been at full power, the tiny warrior would've been a true challenge. As things stood now, tired and weak for the continuous fights and sleep deprived, she was a _friggin' plaything_!

Refusing to accept defeat, she charges forward again. This time she swings too widely, exposing her whole defenseless flank to her opponent. Things could've ended there, to choose between killing or knocking out being the only question. But Yang knows it won't.

As it has happened so many times already, her little opponent simply trips her and pulls away, an amused smile never leaving her lips. The exuberant blonde falls to the ground with a grunt. This has carried on for a while now and it's finally getting to her. She can't control her disarranged breathing anymore, the feeling of impotence she's been fighting off becomes stronger as she tries to stand up again.

She keeps on fighting, but something's not the same anymore. The prospect of giving up, just standing still and accepting whatever fate this girl is saving up for her becomes more and more enticing as her body complains louder. What would happen if she were to just…?

 ***RIIIIP!***

The action was so unexpected, she just stands there, progressively blushing as her brain registers what has just happened.

-" _Hey!_ "- she complains, covering her now exposed breasts as well as she can -" _what's the big idea?_ "

She retakes her fighting stance the best she can with a single hand, now ready to fight to the bitter end. Who knows what'll happen if she allows this little pervert to get his way?

* * *

How long has it been? It's hard to keep track of time underground, specially in this circumstances. Yang would like to think she has held her own against the umbrella girl, but that's a serious overstatement. Barely able to keep her fists up in a less than passable attempt of stance, her clothes are mere shreds and her shame a long forgotten luxury.

If she so much as receives a push, she'll fall to not rise again. At this point, to be honest, she would welcome it: a good deserved rest for a prideful warrior that stood up strong until the bitter end.

But even that small pride will be denied. The little girl in front of her just stares and smiles, with that colourful and strangely innocent gaze of hers, apparently unwilling to act. And Yang is quickly reaching her limit, eyes closing by themselves under the fatigue of the last hours.

She still fights the sensation back for what looks like agonizing hours, but she finally collapses. A pair of eyes of shifting colours and a strangely alluring smile composing the last image her brain registers.

* * *

When Yang wakes up, the first things she notices are some fingers caressing her hair. She then opens her eyes, too tired to react violently, and sees her last opponent, apparently immersed in contemplation of her long, golden locks.

That actually makes her feel a small warmth in her chest. She takes great pride in her hair after all, it's satisfying to see anyone, even her, showing such sincere fascination with it. After a short while, the little girl notices she's now awake, and smiles at her warmly. Then the touch of her other hand makes Yang realize two things. Her own hands and feet are tightly bound and, with the inexplicable exception of her scarf, she's completely naked.

She squirms a little, testing the strength of her binds, and her captor's smile wavers, a hint of worry in her eyes. But she's so, sooooo tired… soon she gives up and accepts the other's touch on her bare skin. It's not like she's doing anything _too_ twisted. She's just softly tracing her arms and legs… It feels kind of nice, actually.

That's how, before she realizes, Yang has allowed herself to fall into the lure of the small fingers' caresses. She doesn't struggle either when they move to her shoulders and stomach, there's something strangely comforting in that touch. Or maybe her tired body just needs that tenderness after such exertions. She still intends to flip if those fingers go anywhere near her privates but...

A frown forms in her face as she takes notice of how her skin barely creates friction… Her body hair has been completely removed. More than dissatisfaction about the fact, is the invasion of her intimacy what ignites her indignation.

Her eyes redden in outrage as she twists around, trying to free herself with all her might.

-" _What have you done, you little sicko?_ "

The girl pulls back, her smile replaced by a hurt expression. Yang can't help but feel a wicked satisfaction upon seeing that. Unfortunately, her stamina doesn't hold long, and her squirming soon stops.

Breathing heavily, she turns her eyes back to her captor, intending to indulge in that hurt expression of hers. But the ever changing eyes of the little woman only reflect… sadness. For some reason that gets her worse than it should have.

Then the pain begins.

* * *

She has resisted. She has fought back as fiercely as she has been able to. At first, she held firm and bit her lips, to avoid screaming with each wave of pain. Then she began squirming, trying to get away from it, holding back her tears and making her lips bleed. Finally, all sense of pride forgotten, she screamed and cried, resisting by stubbornness alone.

That is enough to buy her a night of rest. But the next day she wakes up again to the caresses of the small woman. This time, she revolts immediately, earning another round of punishment. Her captor keeps up with the pain, all the while looking at her with eyes full of sadness, and doesn't let up until she finally surrenders.

In spite of herself, the gentle pressure caused by her soft caresses her hair and skin feel like a balm for her fracturing spirits. The concept of it being a reward for her acceptance somehow gets stuck in her mind.

The following day, she resists with far less enthusiasm.

* * *

Some days of that routine follow, she wakes up to the caress of the woman, she revolts for a while and gets punished for it by her sad-looking captor. Then she surrenders, her captor smiles again, and the caresses resume. In the end, she gets some food, and falls asleep again.

The only change is her resistance getting shorter and shorter, until the day comes when she doesn't resist at all. Her captor looks ecstatic, and she gets a new reward, being allowed outside. Of course, her first thought is about escaping, but she's still tightly bound, and the place -some short of inner yard- is well designed to keep things inside. Curiously enough, the thought of calling for help doesn't come to her easily. All this time alone with her mute captor must be taking it's toll on her. Be as it may, the wind on her skin was a fresh change, and she even allows herself to relax under her captor's attentions when she renews her caresses.

It feels kind of nice. Before she knows it, she's resting on her lap, guard completely lowered. For a while, she can forget all the stress and fear of the last days. The uncertainty each time she was left alone, the suffering each time she was punished, the pain her restraints caused each time she struggled. The insecurity her permanent nakedness caused, the increasing effort it took for her to believe help was coming… All vanishing before some caresses and a little bit of fresh air.

That's when the caresses get a little more… intimate. Yang freezes, suddenly horrified, and stays still, hoping it has been just a mistake. She's too exhausted after the days of struggle to deal with this right when she finally felt some peace. But the caresses continue getting more invasive. Then she realizes what she's doing. She should've snapped the very instant it happened, not hopefully wait for it to be something it obviously wasn't. The very fact that she didn't enrages her more than anything.

-" _Hey!_ " -Still, her voice doesn't come out as fiercely as she would've liked- " _No touching this booties!_ "

Her captor pulls away, that hurt expression Yang's learning to fear painted in her face, she knows it will soon turn into sadness, and can't help but feel her heart shrink as the woman stands up, what comes next is inevitable.

Pain fills her world again.

* * *

Tonight she cries. It had been one of her last bastions of pride, to not crumble in tears in spite of everything that's happening to her. Now it's gone, and she cannot un-gone it. She is cracking, there's no denying it.

If it was just the pain, a torture to get something out of her, she could've managed. Or at least endured far longer. But this… the lack of apparent purpose, no interrogation, no threats, not even words, all of this only to make her submit.

And, at the same time, the gentleness of her captor's approach when she is no punishing her, she hates to admit it, but it feels nice to accept her caresses, to let all her anxiety and fears slip away and her body relax under her warm fingers.

There is… nothing left for her to lose. Every nook and cranny of her body has been caressed by the hands of her captor. And yet, she doesn't feel violated. There has been no forceful approaches. Every graze, every touch, she has, if not consented, at least surrendered to.

It is all that together that's getting to her. The pleasure that came regardless of her will and the pain that came with defiance. And those eyes, oh Dust those eyes, that seem so sincerely happy when she submits, and so deeply sad when she rebels. It makes her believe the punishment is her own fault, that her captor's hand is forced to cause pain against her will.

She has nothing left to lose, except her own self. And she fears that will soon be lost too.

Sleep finds her curled up with wet eyes.

* * *

The door is open.

She can't believe it.

After such a long time… could it be real?

Through pain, through humiliation, through pleasure, checking the door of the yard before going to sleep had became a habit before she knew it.

It had been always closed.

And yet, tonight the door creaks open as she tests it's hinges. Seeing the outside for the first time since she got here.

It's a forest. They are in the middle of nowhere.

In spite of everything that has happened lately, she's still a huntress in training. She's quite sure that, even bound, she can outwit any chaser once she gets into the forest, and finding some civilization would only be a matter of time. Grimm and everything, as long as she doesn't look for trouble, she should be relatively safe.

A doubtful smile forms in her lips as she steps outside, there are no guards anywhere, she's free to leave.

And yet, as she steps beyond the walled yard, the coldness of twilight suddenly feels way harsher in her skin. What will she say when they ask about what happened? What will she tell Ruby? They'll be understanding if she keeps silent about it, but they'll wonder. She'll never be able to confess what has happened within this walls, and she'll never be able to look at her teammates' eyes again.

That's no life for anyone. Maybe she should just disappear… let them know she's fine and well, and then become a treasure hunter or something. But then, what's she leaving this place for?

Freedom? Is freedom worth the loneliness that awaits her? If she won't be able to go back to her loved ones, what's the point in being free?

Then she pictures the sad expression of her captor, when she comes to find her the next day only to find the place empty. For some reason, that scenario makes her heart ache. And also scares her. What if she finds her again? The punishment for escaping would be…

A rustle at her back gives her the scare of her life. Turning around with a quick jump, she finds herself face to face with her tiny captor. She rises her arms and closes her eyes in a vain attempt to protect herself from the pain, but it never arrives. When she opens them again, she finds her captor hasn't moved an inch.

Confused, she can't help but stare. Funny, how she has never took the time to check her closely until now. There's some strange majesty in the little woman, be it the way she conducts herself, the beauty of her tricolor hair, her elegant clothes, her fascinating heterochromic eyes or… something else.

She loses the thread of her thought as she notices the expression in her eyes. It's not her usual gentleness, nor the sadness she reflects when she's about to conduct punishment. There's… hope? And a hint of uncertainty. She smiles, but her lips are trembling slightly.

That's when she realizes. If she leaves tonight, there won't be more pain. She'll be free again. There won't be more caresses either, no more pleasure. And this woman will watch her go, with a pained expression barely hidden behind a smile.

She turns around again, looking at the dark forest, feeling the chill of the incoming night. She just has to take one step, and then another, and another one, until this walls she has spent so long imprisoned within fade into the oblivion. She'll be free again.

Free to look for herself. Free to anguish about her future. Free to be alone and cold. Free to miss her friends, for she won't be able to go with them again. Free to remember the old times and weep. And to regret leaving this place behind, leaving behind her… master.

It's so easy once that's put into words...

She faces her again, and slowly takes a hand to her scarf. The only piece of clothing she wasn't ordered to discard. The only thing reminding her she was human. Taking it off is harder than it should. She knows what she wants to do, but the implications scare her. And releasing it into the wind requires all her resolve. It was her last piece of cloth after all, she's now truly naked.

But once the deed is done, she feels lighter. No duty to anyone or anything, except her Master. She knows full well her training is not complete. There will be more orders, there will be more pain. But there will be rewards too, and she'll know she's loved each time she looks at her eyes. When the tamed dragon kneels in front of her Master, she smiles with the radiance of a thousand suns, and she knows that was the right choice to make.

There's only the slightest hesitation when her Master removes her skirt and sits in front of her, pointing her own crotch. The tamed dragon approaches in all fours and lowers her head, ready to comply.

She has given up all the weights and doubts. Through servitude, she'll be truly free.

* * *

 **Well, here you have it. Heavily sexual and somewhat twisted, I believe I didn't fail to deliver what I promised.**

 **To be honest, the only reason I wrote this story is cuz the scenario got stuck on my head, and for a couple of days it'll come to mind every time I… nevermind. At the start Neopolitan was an extra, I just needed someone to make Yang submit. But I think she fulfills the role quite well.**

 **Also, this whole concept of the pain/pleasure conditioning I picked up from the Seanchan's Damane training, in The Wheel of Time. It's a concepts that has always fascinated me. I would elaborate, but quite frankly, I'm barely keeping myself awake, and couldn't think about something else to say for my life's worth.**

 **Whatever, I hope you guys have at least found it interesting.**

 **To be honest, I'm feeling quite insecure about the whole story, so any review would be welcome. Specifically, I'm not sure if I'm conveying Yang's feelings in a credible fashion. I know what I'm writing about, but what does a neutral reader think about the whole matter?**


End file.
